


Tavern Conversations

by Nixie_DeAngel



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bar, Broody Geralt, Emotions, Feels, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Geralt has emotions, Happy Ending, Insecure Geralt, Jaskier rambling, Jaskier's family, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, These two dumbos finally figure some stuff out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel
Summary: Geralt grunts, lets the other ramble on as he eyes him, noting with a degree of pleasure that Jaskier seems to be slowly unwinding the longer he rambles, more about Yen and her company constantly shipping her around the world, than about rearranging his entire schedule so that he’d be free on the seventh for Ciri’s dance recital, then about a new restaurant he wants to take them to try out because one lad he’d met at a gig last week had raved about it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 137
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	Tavern Conversations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dls/gifts).



> For DLS, who won my FTH 2020 Auction. 
> 
> So, I should say this was actually meant to be silly and fluff, were these two dumbos stumbled into a feelings conversation but as I was typing it up, some angst found its way in here. I hope you enjoy this regardless!

* * *

It’s only after dropping Ciri off with Yennefer for the weekend, that Geralt heads to the town’s local tavern for a drink. He had promised Yennefer after dropping Ciri off with her for the weekend, he’d actually take some time just for _him_ , and not just hole up in an empty house, the entire time Ciri wouldn’t be home. Well, not completely empty, he muses to himself once he pulls his truck into the half filled parking lot. 

Roach was there. And she was most likely letting him know what _she_ thought of a weekend free of Ciri. He just hopes he’s left at least a pair of socks, so he doesn’t need to go barefoot in his boots when he pops down to the shops tomorrow to replace the ones she’s sure to claw up.

As he steps through the door into the dimly lit tavern, he makes a mental note to hide a pair or two of socks in different places, so Roach won’t be able to find them when she wants to let her displeasure to make itself known by shredding them to scraps. 

His cat, what an odd little creature she was. 

He’s not at all surprised when he snags his favorite table, tucked into the back and out of the way. He gives Renfri a nod on his way round the other tables. It helps, probably, that he’s friends with the bartender and owner. Just as he slides into his seat, a pint of ale appears on the sticky table top as a server wanders by. 

He nods in thanks, which Renfri answers with a roll of her eyes, before she gets back to talking with the few regulars that sit up at the bar to chat. 

It’s nice, a low hum of noise that soothes him like an old friend or a favored lullaby. Nice and relaxing way to spend a child free night on a chilly, snowy Friday evening, he thinks as he nurses his drink. 

So it’s a bit of a surprise for him, when Jaskier comes waltzing in after an hour of this, all pink cheeked, bright eyed and nervous twitching in his bright red pea coat. Immediately, Geralt feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge, as he eyes the younger man, watching as he winds his way around the tables and other patrons. There’s something not quite right about the younger man, he thinks.

“Darling,” Jaskier chippers, all false cheer and good humor, once he’s close to the back corner table. 

It sets his teeth on edge. 

Something was _definitely_ not right with him. 

Geralt _hates_ when Jaskier sounds like that. All fake and gaudy, not like the warmth and bubbly cheer he normally does.

Makes him sneer and snap at whoever’s reduced him to it. 

Lifting his pint, he takes a long, slow sip and debates whether it’d be wise to chug the whole thing and order a second and third before listening to whatever Jaskier is about to natter on about to him. He eyes the tankard and sets it back down. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” Jaskier rambles, tugging his scarf off and pulling his jacket off before dropping into the seat across from him. “Well, I mean, I’d _hoped_ to find you here at least, darling. Since I know this is Yen’s weekend with Ciri before she’s off to Norway for the next month. Has she mentioned yet if the company will let her come back for a visit, or will she be jetting off to it’s next location right away?”

Geralt grunts, lets the other ramble on as he eyes him, noting with a degree of pleasure that Jaskier seems to be slowly unwinding the longer he rambles, more about Yen and her company constantly shipping her around the world, than about rearranging his entire schedule so that he’d be free on the seventh for Ciri’s dance recital, then about a new restaurant he wants to take them to try out because one lad he’d met at a gig last week had raved about it. 

“Jaskier,” he rumbles, low and soft, cutting the other man off mid-sentence. He frowns at him, head tilting, eyeing him with concern. “What do you _need_?”

“Wha-what are you talking about? I need nothing, darling,” he denies, eyes flickering this way and that as he shifts in his seat. “Honestly, whatever gave you _that_ idea, Geralt? Can’t a man simply enjoy the company of his dearest best friend?”

He raises a brow at him, staring him down for a long moment, and just bites back the urge to smirk as he watches Jaskier cave. 

“Well, well, I mean, there _may_ be something, I need that is. From you. Or, well, of you more accurately,” he hedges but stops when he seems to take notice of the look Geralt sends him. “Okay, well,” he leans forward, voice dropping, “Do you remember how I told you about my parents’ visit this week? And how mother’s been a bit overbearing about dropping hints about settling down in a proper relationship?”

He nods, long and slow, because yes, yes he _does_ in fact remember. He also remembers how he’d nearly broken the cup he’d been holding. His grip had been so tight, he’d been surprised it hadn’t shattered, as he tried to keep the idea of Jaskier settling down with _him_ to himself.

He holds in the urge to snort, as if _Jaskier_ would ever _want_ to settle down with him. Jaskier, who was all sunshine and smiles and laughter and light, who had so much love and brightness to share with the world.

As _if_ he’d wanted to settle for Geralt, who abhorred social interaction, who didn’t enjoy talking. Who’d rather sit quietly in the back of the room. Who had a daughter and an ex-wife who always made her displeasure for Jaskier _known_. Even if it was mostly just for show _now_. 

Geralt who wasn’t good enough for Jaskier.

Instead of saying anything, he simply gives a sharp nod, that yes, he remembers _that_ conversation.

“It’s quite possible that I may have fibbed a bit? To my mother? I didn’t _mean_ to either, honest. Like, cross my heart and all that. It really did just slip out. Or well, I guess it didn’t so much as _slip_ , so much as I seemed to just be inferring _it_ and my mother guessed. And I thought she might have been joking, so I went along with it. You know how my mother gets. But then I realized she fully believed it, and before I could correct her, which I _tried too_ , I promise I did! By then though, I, well there was really no going back-”

“ _Jaskier_.”

“Mymotherthinksthatwe’redating,” he rushes out, all jumbled and quick as his body snapped up straight.

Geralt blinks, once, twice, then again because surely, he could not have just heard his best friend say what he thinks he said. “ _What_?”

“Don’t be mad, please? Please? I just, I just panicked alright? And then, well, she was all _happy_ for me, because well. She knows how good you are for me. And she _adores_ Ciri, so she was ever so delighted though. Not only had I managed too _finally_ ask you out, but she was getting a grandchild as well. My siblings are quite cross with me, because of it. Mother’s apparently been hounding them now, since she believes we’ve begun dating, and it’s quite serious between us.”

He stops then to take a quick breath, so Geralt uses his chance to cut in, “ _Jaskier_.”

“I know, I know,” Jaskier pleads, hands reaching out to cover Geralt’s, but he moves to pull back, fingers just brushing along the backs of Geralt’s hands. He flips them over, clamping down on Jaskier before he can further drawback. He seems to freeze for a moment before letting out a small, wounded sigh. “So sorry, I really am just so sorry. Really, I- I know you, well, I know you don’t, okay? I _know_ , I’m not, I’m not trying to, to manipulate you or anything, okay? I _need_ you to know that. Okay? But would. But would you by chance be willing to just play along, just until Monday. They go back then. That’s all I need, yeah?”

He pauses again, head tilting down, to avoid making eye contact. “After, after I won’t, I mean I would, but I would understand you wanting your space. I would. So. Or if even you needed me to leave you be, I will. Promise, Geralt, I’m not. I mean. It would hurt, of course it would hurt, your half my heart and Ciri, well she is the absolute light of my life, but I would completely understand you needing your space. Or even me completely getting out of your life. I-”

Geralt lets out a growl, low and deep, that makes Jaskier snap his mouth shut and hunch further in on himself. “Jaskier, _Jaskier_ ,” he cuts in, more demands really, that Jaskier stop rambling.

Because… because it sounds like Jaskier is saying…

That maybe he feels…

No… no, it couldn’t possibly be.

Geralt has only _ever_ been that lucky once in his _life_ , and that was getting Ciri. So no. No, he _must_ not be understanding what Jaskier has been rambling on about. That _has_ to be it. 

It _has_ to be it.

Because… because… 

“What are you _saying_?”

“Geralt-Geralt, please don’t make me say it out loud,” Jaskier mumbles, low and broken.

“I, I,” he starts, cuts himself off as he flounders for a moment. “I _need_ you to explain to me what all that was about. Please,” he near begs as he leans forward, purposefully putting himself into Jaskier’s space. “ _Please_.”

It’s quiet, so quiet, but Geralt doesn’t pay any attention to that. Doesn’t seem to remember or notice that the entire bar seems to wait with bated breath for what’s about to happen next between them.

“I’m in love with you,” Jaskier answers hoarsely. “I’ve been in love with you. And my mother, well, she picked up on it, and assumes now I’ve confessed to you.” He snaps his mouth shut, eyes squeezing tightly together. “Please don’t make me continue, Geralt, don’t be mean.”

“ _Jaskier_ ,” he starts, his name so full of emotions, but stops, seeming to think better of it. 

“Let me go, please,” Jaskier asks, voice soft and drained. 

“ _Never_ ,” he growls, staring for a long moment before swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

“ _Geralt_.”

“ _Jaskier_.”

Neither move for a long, tense moment.

It’s a cough that snaps them out of their self-imposed staring contest. 

Jaskier moves his chair back, does his best to tug his hands from Geralt’s near ironclad grip. But he doesn’t. Instead, he uses his grip to drag Jaskier across the table and into his lap. He lets go, moving to curl one arm around Jaskier’s waist, while the other moves up to cup his cheek, thumb swiping gently against his smooth cheek.

“How could I ever let my heart go, now that I know I can have it?” he asks in a low rumble, before tilting his head up to capture Jaskier’s lips in a searing kiss.

Geralt doesn’t know how long they stay like that, intertwined in one another before the tavern seems to erupt in cheers. It startles them enough to pull apart, looking around all wide-eyed. 

“Ya! Get it!”

“Finally! I thought they’d never catch a clue!”

“Where’s my money, Es? You owe me! I said he’d be the first to break, didn’t I J?”

“Nu-uh! It was a shared confession! That means Aiden’s won the pot, not _you_!”

A sharp whistle cuts through the noise, quieting the place back down as all heads turn almost as one to stare at Renfri, leaning up against the bar. “I’m glad you idiots finally caught a clue. But get out of my pub, before you try to tear one another’s clothes off, ya?” she nods at them.

It’s only then that Geralt notices his one hand has seemed to slip underneath Jaskier’s top, while both of Jaskier’s seem to have buried themselves in his hair.

“Right,” Jaskier calls, near shrill in how high pitched it is, “Right, of course. Terribly sorry about that, love.” He tries to climb off Geralt’s lap, but stops when the other tightens his grip on him. “We’ll, uh, we’ll continue this at, uh, at your house?” he asks, turned to stare, almost worriedly, down at Geralt, who nods sharply and pries his hands off to let Jaskier get up.

“We’ll take my truck,” he rumbles low, voice full of promise and want.

“Oh, oh, yes,” Jaskier grins, eyes bright and lips _red_. 

Quickly, they tug their coats on, Geralt remembering to drop some money onto the table. As they walk out, they share a wince to the wolf whistles and catcalls they leave in their wake. Once out in the cold though, they seem to realize what they’ve done, as they glance at one another almost shyly.

“We should talk,” Geralt says the first to speak up, before nodding towards his truck. Better to be sitting in it, with the heater and all, instead of standing in the snow and cold like a couple of kids.

“We should,” Jaskier agrees as he follows along. “But, um, maybe we could do more kissing first?”

Geralt pauses, unlocking the truck doors to shoot Jaskier a look over the hood, and lets his lips curl up into a smirk full of lust and promise. “Can do more than just kissing, Jask. Got the rest of forever to talk about this.”

“Oh,” Jaskier murmurs, delighted as he brightens. “Yes. I like that. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me where I post the things I [create](https://nixies-creations.tumblr.com/), or at my main blog [here](http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/)!


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